


Beastly

by Mistress_Ashley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Animagus, Bestiality, Community: hp_kinkfest, M/M, Minor Violence, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-26
Updated: 2012-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-30 04:24:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/327687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistress_Ashley/pseuds/Mistress_Ashley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry can’t resist playing the hero—even if it is only to save a cat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beastly

**Author's Note:**

> Written for last year's [Harry Potter Kinkfest](http://hp-kinkfest.livejournal.com/). Check it out if you're interested because posting began on Jan. 24th for this year's kinkfest ... which I have 2 entries to post—a fic and a lovely piece of art, if I do say so myself.
> 
> The prompt I chose for this one was Harry/Scorpius bestiality with Scorpius as a dog, wolf, or a big cat animagus and was submitted by snarkyscorp. Beta'd by Kamerreon.
> 
>  **Warnings:** m/m, bestiality, minor violence, ADW (46/20), and a brief mention of m/f.

Harry Potter wandered the streets of Diagon Alley; he was in disguise as a much older wizard because, even decades after his defeat of Voldemort, people still came up to him on the street, acting as if they were his best friends or wanting to shake his hand for his service to them. As if he had killed Voldemort for them and them alone. Harry liked to think he had enough Slytherin in him that, without Voldemort’s continued attempts on his life, he might have run. 

He wondered what kind of life he might have had if he 

_had_  run. Would he be on some deserted island with cabana girls and boys catering to his every whim? Harry snorted at his thoughts. He would probably be exactly where he is now—divorced (only three years previously, once Lily Luna graduated; there was no reason to make the children choose) with 2.5 kids and a broken picket fence. He just wasn’t made for a peaceful life.

Giving confirmation to this thought, a sound rose from a back alley; it was dark and dank but nowhere near Knockturn and the sound rose through the air, bouncing off the dirty bricks. Harry’s brow furrowed; that wasn’t a human sound: it was animalistic. Curiosity got the better of him, as it had in years past, and Harry found himself turning down the alley.

He didn’t know what he had expected, maybe a few brats torturing a cat or something … in a way that was exactly the scene he had waltzed into, but it was on a much larger scale. There were three boys, if they could be called that, shooting spell after horrifying spell at a hunkered snow leopard. 

Large animals weren’t known to be familiars of just anyone, so the practice had faded into obscurity in Europe, but Harry remembered Fleur talking about some of her schoolmates’ familiars. Had a visiting witch or wizard lost their familiar? Or worse yet, did the cat belong to one of these boys? Did these children not know the value of their familiars?

Harry guessed it didn’t really matter because his ‘saving people thing’ was broadening to include this cat. He stepped into the alley, drawing the attention of the children—well, young adults; they looked no older than twenty, but that didn’t mean much as Harry (at forty-six) looked not a day over thirty, twenty-five on a good day. Wizards aged slowly after all. The boys spared him barely a glance, taking in his disguise of an elderly, overweight bloke with a distasteful eye and catalogued him as no threat to their ‘fun’.

The cat gave a mighty yowl at a particularly vicious stinging hex, crouching closer against the wall. It made Harry wonder why the cat hadn’t attacked. Was there a spell you could place on animals to keep them from attacking or had the owner given it orders that it felt obligated to obey, even in this type of situation?

His wand was in his hand without a thought, glamours falling away soon after. That got the boys’ attention, their eyes widening as they unconsciously took two steps backward. Power radiated around Harry as a near visible aura, much like heat waves rising above the road; one of the boys lost his nerve, scurrying around Harry and out of the alley, while another cringed against the back wall. The last, however, took his friends’ cowardly ways as a driving force, turning his wand on Harry. The spell that came out was more of a minor annoyance than a real threat. It was easy to shield against and the boy was even more easy to put down with a stunner.

Harry moved forward hesitantly, lowering his wand as he went. There was no need to terrify the poor creature more than had already been done. “Hey there, beautiful,” Harry crooned. The animal really was quite beautiful with its sleek white and gray streaked fur and creamy underbelly. The twitching tail caught Harry’s attention. The appendage was thick, about as round as his forearm, and long too—only a smidge shorter than its body if Harry had to guess. 

A rolling growl dragged his attention away and back to its face. The eyes were a stormy gray that might turn blue in the right light and they held far more intelligence than Harry had expected—not that he hadn’t expected to find some, just look at Hedwig, but it was an almost human intelligence.

Harry’s eyes narrowed at this thought, and the leopard paced backwards, trying to disappear into the bricks as though it was sure Harry was going to take up where the boys had left off. Speaking of the boys, his eyes scanned the dingy alley and found the cowardly, cringing boy pulling his larger friend painstakingly out of the alley; a glare had him moving much faster.

With a sigh, Harry stooped before the creature, realizing as he did that it was large but certainly nowhere near what a full-grown snow leopard was sure to be … not that he knew much about snow leopards or their development. There was a snuffling sound as it took in his scent, cautiously moving forward to sniff at his hands. Those gray eyes bore into Harry, watching for any sudden movements before they lowered. The creature, coming to a decision, nudged at his empty hand. Harry’s lips tilted upwards at the silent demand for attention and he gave one of the flicking ears a thorough scratch.

“You got an owner around here somewhere?” Harry asked, searching the empty alley; maybe those boys had knocked out the owner … or was his original thought correct? Were those boys the original owners? The rolling growl dissuaded him out of this line of thought. “Well, you can’t have gotten here on your own,” he pointed out logically.

The leopard’s ears and tail began to twitch, lips pulling back in a snarl, irritation plain on its face at Harry’s inability to understand. It fell into a stalking pace, muscles twitching under all that fur, before it stopped before seemingly nothing; Harry moved forward, still in his crouch, to find that it was a wand. Had one of the boys left it behind? No, he thought, each of them had had their wand on them when they ran, or were dragged, from the alley.

His eyes narrowed on the leopard. Could it really be? “Are you a wizard?” It was such a silly thing to have to ask, but really, snow leopards weren’t that common, almost extinct, and there wasn’t a leopard preserve to help save their species like the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary. Not many would risk the Ministry’s wrath, on top of the money spent to acquire one, to say they had such a creature as a familiar. That left escape from the exotic creature shop in Knockturn or that the leopard was a wizard.

The leopard gave a huff as it bobbed its large head. The look in the eyes was utterly condescending and reminded Harry of Snape on a good day—no one, even years after his death, could match that man on a bad day; this one might come close in human form, though. “Why don’t you change back?” The look he got in return made him wonder if this was a long lost relative of Snape’s because Harry felt about five inches tall, if not shorter. 

Duh! The transformation from human to Animagus transformed all items the witch or wizard was wearing. A wand wasn’t exactly _needed_  for the transformation, but unless you had decades of experience with the transformation, most felt more comfortable using them as a focus for the spell. Had the three boys from before gotten into a fight with this wizard? A quick glimpse to the furry underbelly showed that it was indeed a  _wizard_  and not a witch. Had they fought and this wizard had changed in the hope of chasing them off?

Again, the leopard huffed, pushing at the wand with the flat of his muzzle. Picking the wand up, guessing correctly that leopard teeth aren’t made for the gentle touch needed in this situation, he tucked it away in his robes. “Are you here with family, someone who can get you home?”

The great head swished, letting Harry know the man had been on his own … or was just too embarrassed to tell the truth. “I guess I can get you to St. Mungo’s—if you’ll fit through the Floo.” Large teeth snapped near his ankle. “Bloody hell!” Harry exclaimed, glaring at the beast. “It’s not like I can return you to your home; I don’t know who you are. I’m just making this up as I go along, all right?”

The leopard tilted its head away and Harry figured that was as much of an apology as he was going to get. A thought came to him then. “Any specific reason I can’t take you to St. Mungo’s?” Harry asked, arching his brow at the cat—a cat that refused to look at him. Just as he thought: the wizard was unregistered. 

The Ministry, under Kingsley’s rule, had cracked down on unregistered Animagi since the war. Kingsley, and all those who had fought, knew the pain that could come from not knowing. The punishment changed from a silly fine to a jail sentence–nothing too harsh, just a month in a Ministry holding cell with no Dementors in sight, but the arrest went onto your record and you were branded a sneak in the eyes of the wizarding world. It was likely to result in the perpetrator getting fired from his or her current job and he or she had an even harder time finding a new one. 

Harry sighed. All those things meant he couldn’t take the wizard to Hogwarts either; Professor McGonagall would be honor-bound to call the Minister, no matter how much she might like Harry. Why was he going to so much trouble for a man he didn’t know? He was sure part of it was the thrill—there wasn’t much that was thrilling in his life anymore, and the other part might have been because of the Marauders; this would be a way of honoring them since he’d never been able to make the change—Transfiguration just wasn’t his strong suit.

That only left taking the animal home with him. There was going to be fur everywhere, wasn’t there? “Come on then,” Harry said, making his way towards the mouth of the alley, only stopping at the sound of that rolling growl again. What now? Was that growl like a dog’s bark, something to get his attention? Looking back, Harry could just picture the arched brow and sneer on the lips of some nameless, faceless wizard—Slytherin, definitely Slytherin. 

Taking stock of the situation, he realized that he had removed his glamour earlier and he was just about to walk into a crowd of people as the infamous Harry Potter. Wonderful. He would be lucky to get out of Diagon before nightfall. A thought and a swish of his wand put his glamour to rights—nothing to see here, folks, just an old, foreign wizard and his familiar.

They made it out of the alley unmolested, though Harry got a few odd looks over his choice of familiar; luckily, the leopard’s snarls were enough to dissuade any from attempting to get a closer look.

The problem, after getting him home, became what do you do with an animal that large, who just happened to be a stuck wizard? There was almost no way to communicate with him beside yes or no questions and Harry still didn’t know who the Merlin-damned man was. He could guesstimate an age given the information he was able to get on snow leopards at the local library; the wizard was younger than Harry was, somewhere between twenty and thirty. 

Harry would guess closer to twenty though, given his inability to change back. Once you hit a certain age it was much harder to find your animal, let alone transform into it, so most put their all into it for a few years after getting out of school. If they didn’t succeed in that time they gave up, hence the reason the Animagus transformation was so rare, made rarer still by the fact that not many even had an animal form.

Harry could also guess, from everything he knew about those who had been successful in their transformation, that the wizard was blond; his mind shied away from the obvious choice of the Malfoy family.

Two weeks into the leopard’s stay Harry knew he had to ask, no matter how comfortable it was having another flesh and blood person—being in the house. “Aren’t you ever going to try to change back, or is my cooking really that good?” The leopard barely twitched, ignoring Harry. “You’ve tried, haven’t you?” An air of embarrassment settled around the large cat’s form, letting Harry know he’d guessed correctly. This wasn’t good news. 

There were spells for revealing Animagi, but they weren’t meant for those who were stuck. Their magic was actively working to _keep_  them in animal form, adding more magic; magic actively working to force them  _out_  of animal form could be disastrous. Healers and one department of the Ministry were the only ones who knew the specific spell needed for this situation. Bloody hell. 

“We can’t just leave you like this. It’s not right. Your family is sure to be looking for you, and I still don’t know who you are so I can’t help there. It’s also not good to spend such a long time in animal form. You need to change back,” Harry stated firmly.

All he got for his efforts was a flick of a long spotted tail before the creature disappeared into the depths of his house.

Harry sighed sadly; yes, he would miss the leopard—the wizard who, oddly enough, had become his friend in the past weeks—but surely there was someone out there waiting for the young man to come home?

**++++**

It started simply enough, a glance here or an accidental brush there (he was sure they weren’t all accidents; they wouldn’t possibly be, right?), but it was enough to send Harry’s pulse speeding away.

Was it wrong to lust after an animal, if that animal was a trapped wizard? Harry was sure some would argue that it was, that if he could have feelings for an Animagus it was sure to translate over into other species. However, maybe the wizarding world was different; they already had cross-species breeding—just look at Hagrid or Professor Flitwick: they were both only part human. Still, both those species, giant and goblin, were at least human  _shaped_ —if only vaguely in that they stood upright on feet and had hands with opposable thumbs.

Did it really matter as long as there was human intelligence behind those eyes? Did it really matter what others would think when the wizard was sure to change back any day now? It had been a month and a half since Harry had brought him home, surely the magic would dissipate any day now.

The couch shook as said trapped wizard pounced upon it, throwing itself into a comfortable position. Harry shivered at the weight on his thigh, at the warm breath that puffed over cloth-covered skin to rise a certain part of his anatomy. He also noticed the mischief and lust burning bright in those rolled up gray eyes. His fingers found the soft fur behind one ear and scratched lightly at it as he turned back to his thoughts.

It wasn’t hurting anyone if he acknowledged his arousal. So what if the form this wonderful being was in was that of an animal? It wouldn’t always be that way, and Harry would be there when the man changed back.

**++++**

Harry breathed deeply, carefully. The musky scent of something wild and primal permeated his senses and the heavy weight of paws large enough to palm his face bore down on his shoulders, claws resting on his collarbone. There was almost two hundred pounds of sharp edged muscle bearing down on him. This was beyond dangerous and he wasn’t sure  _exactly_  how he had gotten into this situation.

His eyes clenched, a shiver working through his body that had nothing to do with fear, at the slick slide of that beastly cock gliding between his spread cheeks. He was prepared. He had gone into this willingly and there were no second thoughts as the creature above him pushed that slick organ into Harry’s slicked opening. It was large and stretched him just so; pain mixing with the pleasure had him moaning like a bitch in heat—no pun intended. The long, silky under fur tickled teasingly against his skin, sending a warm flush through his body and ratcheting his arousal to new heights.

The harsh panting breath in his ear had an edge of that familiar rolling growl; it was a comforting sound, something that he had gotten used to in the time the leopard had been staying with him. The sound changed, softening into a purr that relaxed Harry even further.

The paws pressed his chest to the floor, his arms giving out under the stain of such weight. He shuddered at the hot swipes of a long tongue licking stripes up his arched back. Adjusted to the intrusion, Harry arched his hips farther—as much as he could in this position—and the leopard took his consent to heart. The slow drag and scrape of the slightly barbed erection made Harry gasp in a breath through clenched teeth. He was just thankful that it wasn’t as fully barbed as a domestic cat’s; he would still need healing in the morning, but it would be no worse than the healing needed after rough sex.

The purr continued as the leopard began to thrust, pulling back in a slow drag before its hips snapped forward penetrating as deeply as it could. Harry gave into the thrusts, surrendered his body to the animal behind and within him. Cries issued from his mouth and shudders from his body when the leopard gently grasped the back of his neck, teeth denting his skin, and the purr vibrated down his spine to work with the ever-quickening thrusts.

He was close, so close and he squirmed around until he could plunge his hand under himself, fingers closing around his aching erection. Harry’s hand worked up and over himself in time with the sharp jabs of the animal’s hips. The purr grew louder as the hips stuttered frantically, turning back to the rolling growl Harry was so fond of. It was this, this familiar sound timed perfectly with the warm rush within him, that had him clenching around the cat’s shaft. It sent him tumbling into the white heat of the sun in a rush of pleasure

His last thought before darkness swallowed him whole was, ‘This is so much better than sex with Ginny ever was.’

**++++**

Scorpius Malfoy stretched as he came awake. The house was still pitch black, letting him know that he hadn’t been asleep very long, but something had woken him. He listened closely, straining his ears. Yes, that was what was wrong; he couldn’t hear the normal house sounds that had been a part of his stay here. There was no creaking coming from the attic, no water through the pipes, and no magical crackle of the spells prevalent through the house. Come to think of it,  _he_  felt different, not as weighted down.

 

A glance at his body showed the reason—so relaxed after such great sex his spell had failed. He was back in human form. He stretched consciously, enjoying the pull of much smaller muscles. It had been so long since he had felt human … it was kind of cold; he shivered lightly, fingers rubbing at his arms. That fur coat would sure come in handy about now. He contemplated shifting back but shook that thought off. The leopard form wasn’t needed anymore; he had what he had aimed to get when he started this whole thing. 

Scorpius had known he wanted Harry Potter since that day on the train headed for his first year at Hogwarts. He had glanced across the station platform and had seen Harry for the first time in person. He had ignored all his father’s whispered words about Potter, his wife, and their children, only focusing on the tugging at his magic. Harry Potter was meant to be his, if only he could find a way to take him.

A grin stretched his normally placid face as he gazed down at a sleeping Harry. Yes, it had all been worth it. The money wasted on those boys from the alley—hell, the money wasted on buying a spy to follow Harry. The man had to be damn good not to be caught and that sum had put a large dent in his vault, but it had gotten him in just the right place at just the right time. Harry had never been able to resist playing the hero and that was just what Scorpius had counted on.

Malfoys always get what they want after all, and Scorpius wanted Harry—for keeps.

**The End**


End file.
